


Stitches

by JustAReader23346798



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Stitches, bullet wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22479805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAReader23346798/pseuds/JustAReader23346798
Summary: Jeff comes home from an afternoon of murder after being chased by the police, bullets in his body like an annoying parasite. While trying to get them out, Jack comes to ‘offer’ his assistance.
Relationships: Eyeless Jack/Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> So I like to headcannon Jack as the guy who doesn’t really talk much, but I also made him talk in this fic quite a bit? I was gonna have him use ASL but I couldn’t come up with a good reason for Jeff also knowing ASL?   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy regardless of that little inconsistency!

Jeff walked into the mansion casually, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face. Nothing made his nights better than a satisfying kill, no matter how annoyed he got at the police. Not that they were that much of a problem this time around, thanks to Smile Dog. Though he did still have a few bullets in him, but they weren’t exactly hard to fish out; usually.   
“And where have you been?”   
Jeff gave Slender an inquisitive look.   
“Killing, what else?”  
“You almost led the police straight to us, Jeffery.”  
“Hey, it ain’t my fault the dumb asses decided to chase after me.” Jeff shrugged.  
“If I hadn’t released Smile Dog to chase after you, they might have actually made it to the mansion.”  
“So what?” Jeff said breathily as he stretched his shoulders, feeling a bullet near his spine scrape against his shoulder blade. He shuddered at the sensation and said, “We’re a bunch of inhuman monsters and killers. It’s not like a few cops are a problem against all of us.”  
Slender sighed through his nonexistent nose and shook his head.   
“You were the first one I ever invited here Jeffery,” Slender reminded him, too which Jeff rolled his eyes. He knew _exactly _what the faceless freak was about to say.  
“And I still don’t know how things work around here,” Jeff interrupted as he made quotation marks in the air. “Yeah, yeah- I get it Slendy. Mind if I go fish the bullets out of my gut before you lecture me any more?”  
Without waiting for a response, Jeff turned and headed upstairs for his room.   
“If you’re so insistent,” Slender called after him. “Then shower as well. You look even messier than usual.”__

__Jeff walked into his room, white cement walls and a plain bed with white sheets and a wooden chair tucked in the corner. He walked through the empty wooden floor and into the bathroom, which was fairly more decorated. Other than being just a plain bathroom with a few blood splatters here and there, Jeff had decided to spruce it up, just a touch. On his mirror, when he faced it, he’d made a smile on his reflections face out of blood, and on either side of the mirror were pictures of some of the few kills under his belt that he’d actually _planned _. Mostly just assholes he knew back when he was at school.  
Jeff stopped studying his own decorations and instead turned his gaze to his reflection. He stifled a laugh, Slendy was right, he really _was _a mess.  
Jeff’s hair was covered in blood, almost matted against his skull; which seemed to be cracked open a little bit. “How’d that happen?” he murmured as he poked at it, dragging his nail against the dried blood. The scars along his cheeks had split and were bleeding again, but that wasn’t exactly unusual.   
Jeff’s body, or at least down to his chest- as far as the mirror stretched- had a few bullet holes. He cursed angrily at the bloody tears in his hoodie, he wasn’t very good at sowing so he supposed those holes would just be there now.   
Jeff groaned and pushed his nasty hair out of his face. “Might as well shower all the blood off first.” he murmured.   
The bloody haired boy turned to put his clothes on his bed, but was instead greeted with the blue masked, zombie like figure of Eyeless Jack standing in his bathroom’s door way. Jeff jumped, not expecting the silent, older boy to be there, but quickly recovered from the brief shock and instead became annoyed.   
“You scared me you asshole!” He shouted, looking angrily at the blue skinned boy.   
Jack merely tilted his head to the side, as silent as always.   
Jeff huffed and pushed Jack out of the way, walking to his bed tucked into a corner.   
The facially scarred boy began to lift his hoodie over his head, when he noticed that the masked boy was still standing in his doorway, staring at him; making no attempt to leave.  
“Do you fucking mind?” Jeff glowered.   
Jack shrugged.   
Jeff loudly groaned before dragging his hands down his face, smearing the blood stains.   
“If you’re so _insistent _on staying would you at least turn around, _Jack-ass _?” Jeff asked, using the pissy nickname he’d come up with for his friend.  
If Jack had eyes Jeff could’ve sworn he’d roll them, but he turned around nonetheless.   
“And get out of the bathroom!” Jeff spat, walking over to push Jack away.   
The taller boy simply waved Jeffs hands away and walked to the chair in the corner, sitting down and crossing his arms.   
Jeff could practically read him like a book, _”Good enough?” _? the masked boy asked with his body language.  
Instead of responding Jeff simply walked into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him; preferring to strip out of view of peering (though probably indifferent) eyes.   
Taking his clothes off was always Jeffs least favorite part of coming home after killing. He hated the way his clothes stuck to him, the gross feeling of the fabric peeling off off his skin; leaving a few strands of thread glued to his skin with dried blood.  
Jeff peeled off his hoodie, taking his shirt off with it and looked at himself in the mirror. He was thin, almost grotesquely so. His ribs were so visible you could count them, and his collar bones were sharp as knives. Jeffs skin was pale, almost corpse like.   
It wasn’t that Jeff didn’t eat, although to be fair he couldn’t tell you if he’d eaten that day. It’s just that… it was like he didn’t _need _to.  
Jeff looked away, irked by his own… _oddness _and had his back face the mirror as he continued to strip.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
By the time Jeff had managed to scrub all the blood out of his hair and off his skin (as well as any other nastiness he had on his body) and redressed himself in his clothes, his room had darkened from lack of sunlight shining through the window.   
”Must be late…” he murmured to himself. The only light coming from the dim moonlight shining through the window. He sighed and tucked his wet hair behind one ear. The black haired boy walked to the center of the room and reached up to turn on the bulb dangling from the ceiling.   
Jeff heard a groan come from the corner and turned around, furrowing his burnt eyebrows together to see that Jack was still sitting in the corner. The blue masked boy looked like he had fallen asleep, his mask slipped off ever so slightly.   
Jack fixed it as he slowly woke up, and looked up at Jeff; who was less than pleased. He’d been showering for at _least _and hour! That meant the corpse like freak had been sitting there sleeping- waiting for him to come out of the shower- for an _hour _! Maybe even longer!  
Jeff made a noise off annoyance and stomped over to his friend, crossing his arms and glaring at him as he said “So was there a reason you waited her for a fucking hour, or are you just trying to be creepy?”   
Jack looked at him and Jeff continued, “You know, we’re all killers in this mansion. If you wanted to creep someone out you should’ve stalked someone in the woods.” Jeff turned around and was about to tell Jack to leave, but he felt a hand on a bullet wound in his back, pressing gently into the moist skin.   
Jeff yelped and jumped back, looking at Jack furiously. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”   
Jack stood up and walked over to Jeff, leaning down into his face and whispered, “I want to help you with your wounds.”   
Jeff looked at him for a moment, before crossing his arms and looking at him disbelievingly. “And why would you want to do that?”  
Jack dug around in his jacket pockets, his masked face never leaving Jeff’s, and pulled out some crumpled notes. Jeff looked at them, and read the words ‘Medicine: Beginners Guide to Healing Wounds’.  
Jeff scoffed, “I’m not your fuckin test subject, Jack-ass.” But all the same, he knew how hard it would be to dig the bullets out of his back by himself, so he begrudgingly accepted the blue skinned boys help.   
Within a few minutes Jeff was sitting on his bed, his hoodie discarded to the floor next to the bed and his shirt pulled up over his back and one pant leg pulled up to his hip. Jeff’s fingers were knuckle deep in his own thigh, wiggling around the wet warmth of his muscles in search of a bullet while Jack was behind him doing the same while referencing the torn out pages set beside him.   
“Ow!” Jeff yelped when he felt a sharp sting in his back. “Watch what you’re fuckin doin’ back there, would ya?!”   
Jack didn’t respond, but the the facially scarred boy could feel the movements of the clawed fingers in his back slow and become more precise.   
Jeff went back to what he was doing and continued to dig through his thigh. Vaguely, Jeff thought back to when he’d first returned home to the mansion after getting chased by police. He remembered the agony he was in as he dragged himself through the heavy wooden doors, sobbing his eyes out as blood gushed from his wounds.   
Jeff had clung to Slenderman like a helpless child when the faceless man had come to his aid, the pain so intense he could hardly speak or walk. Slender had had no objections to helping the young killer, for it was the first time Jeff had ever been shot in his life. The black haired boy had hung on to Slender as if he were his life support as the suited man pulled bullets out of him- rather ungracefully. When all was said and done, Jeff had limped his way back up the stairs, to embarrassed from his display of weakness to the monster to accept help getting back up to his room.   
“There will come a day, young Jeffrey,” Slender had called after him as he heaved himself up the stairs. “When bullet wounds don’t bother you at all. For now, however, you are but a mere human.”  
Jeff laughed through his nostrils and smirked. At the time he’d disbelieved Slender, wondering how anything- human or not- could ever take a _bullet _and not be bothered. Now, however, he knew the tall man had been right. “Aha!” he murmured to himself as he felt the tip of his finger touch metal.  
Jeff clasped it between two fingers and pulled it out, muscle sticking and tearing off of it as it dripped blood from where Jeff held it above his thigh. The black haired boy nonchalantly tossed it aside and reached for the gauze and medical tape he’d placed between his thighs. Jeff placed the dressing against the wound, which had began to gush blood after the bullet had been removed, and applied pressure. He was about to begin to wrap the tape around his leg to secure it, when a cold, dead hand suddenly grabbed his wrist with force.   
“Huh?” Jeff looked behind him as far as he could, ignoring the eerie snap in his neck and he looked at the boy behind him, who had tipped his head up ever so slightly from where he had his own clawed fingers dug into his back; looking back at him.   
“You fuckin’ need something?”   
Before replying Jack yanked a bullet out of Jeff's back, causing the boy to hiss.   
“Mind being a bit more sl-”  
“Stitches.”  
“What?”  
Jack got up slowly, bloody bullet still in his hand as he climbed slowly off the bed. “These wounds will need stitches.”   
“Yeah well,” Jeff turned his body until his legs dangled off of the bed, looking up at Jack. “the only one in this mansion who’s any good at sewing is Sally, and I don’t think she’s be too keen on stitchin my fuckin’ skin back togethor.”  
Jack tipped his head slightly as Jeff snorted at his own joke, before holding up one finger- _’Wait’ _\- and left the room.  
Jeff huffed out a sigh, and decided to ignore whatever Jack had planned and instead lifted his leg up and taped the gauze to his thigh.  
His door creaked open again and Jack walked in, holding a needle and thread in one hand and a bottle of antiseptic in the other.   
“No,” Jeff said, less of a response and more of an order- or a statement to those unwilling to listen.   
Jack tipped his head to the side again nodded towards Jeffs thigh, _’I told you to wait.’ _  
“I’m not letting you stitch me up, Jack-ass.” Jeff crossed his arms and sat up. “Have you ever even sewn up a tear on your jacket before?”  
Jack ignored the fanged comment and sat beside Jeff. He set down the contents in his hand and reached up for his mask, motioning for Jeff to turn around. Jeff rolled his eyes, turning his head away instead of his full body. Jeff had seen Jack without his mask on plenty of times before, hell they’d even kissed once. He saw no need for the veil of privacy Jack insisted on anymore, but he wasn’t so much of an asshole that Jeff couldn’t respect something like this.   
The white skinned boy grumbled and tugged his leg sleeve back down over his thigh to his ankle and said again, “Jack, you are not stitching up my wounds.”   
“They need to be closed, Jeff.” Jack said as he placed his mask down, his voice was dry and hoarse. Jeff imagined that this was probably the most he’d spoken all week.   
“I’ll do it myself!”  
“Do you know how to sew?”  
“No but I’d rather stitch my own wound with no clue how to do it than let someone else who doesn’t know how to do it either!”  
“Jeff-”  
“ _No! _”  
Jack made a sound of irritation behind him and rustled around in his jacket pocket again. Jeff was tempted to turn his head and look at his friend, but a piece of paper was shoved into his face before he got the chance.   
“Hey!” Jeff spat as he yanked the page out of Jacks hands and looked at him angrily. Jacks eyebrows were furrowed together and his lips were pulled up slightly, revealing his razor sharp canines. Jeff shuddered at the thought of Jack tearing into his victims with them.   
Jeff shot a glare at his friend before looking down at the paper he’d been so politely handed and read the highlighted part,  
 _’After surgery, it is essential to properly close the wound of your patient. There are various methods of doing so, such as staples- which is more painful for the patient. If the wound you are closing percutaneous or a simple pediatric case, adhesive and skin glues are particularly useful. However, the most commonly used method is to simply stitch a wound closed.  
Nevertheless, no matter the method you use, it is mandatory to close the wound- not doing so could result in infection and other complications  
Below are instructions on how to perform all of the above mentioned methods, some of whi-.’ _  
Jeff pinched his nose and grumbled to himself. “Of-fuckin’-course you have a page of instructions ripped out of your books.” He shoved the page back into Jack's face, who hissed but took it back. “Why wouldn’t you?”  
Jeff released a heavy, irritated groan. “Fine,” he caved. He didn’t exactly want to get an infection or ‘other complications’. Wasn’t like there was a proper medic in the hell mansion he called home, so Jeff supposed he’d have to settle with someone who’d at least read about it; even if the objective of those readings were to learn how to kill more efficiently. “But if I think you fucked up even _once _, I’m ripping whatever's left of your eyes out of your skull.”  
Jack simply looked at him and motioned for Jeff to turn around; to which he begrudgingly obliged. The white skinned boy heard the sound of a bottle being tipped upside down, before shivering and hissing at the stinging feeling of cold liquid on his wound. ‘The antiseptics,’ he thought to himself. ‘Because of course he would have antiseptics.’  
Jeff fixed his gaze onto the bloody sheets in front of him and sighed as he felt the pinch of the needle sliding through his freshly disinfected skin. It didn’t exactly hurt, but the barely noticeable pinch of the needle and the uncomfortable feeling of the thread being dragged through his skin was enough to annoy him.   
“Think you could hurry this up?” Jeff frowned, furrowing his eyebrows together as the thread began to slow its pace.   
“Thought you didn’t want me to fuck up?” Jack replied sarcastically.   
Jeff grumbled but stayed silent, chewing on his lip as he stared at his sheets.  
Behind him Jack’s face was so close to his back that the corpse like boy could practically feel the heat radiating off of the white skinned boy. Jack's eyes- or lack thereof- were focused on the stitches he was doing. He pinched white skin between his fingers once more and pulled the needle through, taking notice of the slight twitching from the scarred boy before him. Finally, Jack leaned back slightly and pulled the wound together, closing it and tying the thread together.   
Jack pulled away and looked at the wound, examining it to make sure he’d done everything properly before moving onto the next one. The unmasked boy leaned up and momentarily over Jeff, checking the split on his head he’d noticed when he came in. To his relief though, the wound seemed to already be closing itself. _’Good,’ _he thought to himself. Jack didn’t know how keen Jeff would’ve been to needing staples as well. He turned back to the white skinned boys back and set to work on the last wound there.  
Jeff only had one more deep wound on his back that needed to be stitched together, and to be honest Jeff didn’t need stitches; even for the deep ones. The white skinned boy would heal them on his own, whether he realized it or not. Jack knew the average human would take 6 to 8 weeks to heal, occasionally longer, but Jack knew that Jeff would probably be healed up entirely by tomorrow. After all, he’d seen it happen before.   
Jack pulled the last stitch together and tied the thread once more.   
“You done?”   
Jack pulled lightly at Jeff’s shoulder- _’Turn around.’ _\- and Jeff moved to face him.  
Jack studied Jeff’s front for a moment before sitting up on his knees and holding Jeffs face in his hands. Jack towered over him and looked at his scars; they’d begun to bleed.   
“The fuck you thi-” Jeff began to growl, but when Jack gently placed a thumb over Jeffs bleeding cheeks, his growl turned into a low chuckle.  
“Don’t think your stitches can heal those.”   
Jack knew that, just like how no amount of medical work could bring back his eyes, no amount of medicine could heal Jeffs face. But that didn’t stop the soft pang Jack felt when he saw the blood trickle down Jeffs burned cheeks.   
_’I would’ve stopped him,’ _Jack always thought when he saw Jeff like this. _’If I’d been there with him that night, I wouldn’t have let him do this to himself.” _But Jack didn’t know how true that was. When Jeff had carved the eternal smile unto his own face, that’s when the boy had crossed the threshold into insanity. When he’d mutilated himself, that’s when he’d become one of them; that’s when he’d earned his place in the mansion. Despite how much Jack wanted to say he would’ve stopped him from hurting himself, he knew deep down, he wouldn’t. Because if Jeff hadn’t, he never would’ve come here; and they never would’ve met.  
“I know.” Jack murmured, and Jeff watched as the boy sat back down and reached for the antiseptic.  
“I don’t need it.” Jeff said with an amused, half smile.   
“I know.”   
Jeff didn’t protest, not even when the sting he’d previously felt came back to annoy him, just let his friend dote on him. It was sweet, Jeff thought, when Jack had these moments of silent compassion. Jeff felt it too, as much as he would violently deny it, during these moments. It was a feeling that, over the years of his stay at the mansion, had become foreign and unfamiliar; but he felt it with his friend.   
Jack capped the bottle and set it back on the bed, and the pair sat in comfortable silence. Jeffs eyes flickered over the window. He could see the moon shining, lightly coating the room in a soft, silver light.   
“Hungry?” Jeff asked with a smirk.  
Jack looked up at him.   
“Night’s still young.”  
Jack released a soft laugh through his nose and smiled, reaching behind him and slipping his mask back on. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a scalpel, because, Jeff thought, of course he had a scalpel in his pocket.   
Jeff’s smile widened and he hopped off the bed, letting his shirt fall back down and slipping his hoodie back over him from where it had been discarded on the floor. He turned to look at Jack, who was steadily getting up from the bed, looking at Jeff expectantly.   
Jeff grabbed Jack by the hand and the two ran out his bedroom door._______________________________________ _

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I was originally gonna make this a part of my Bad Things Happen series (head split open) but I thought that the end result wasn’t edgy enough and I liked how it came out so I didn’t rewrite it!  
> Please leave kudos and comments, they really help me write and publish more! Also, any constructive criticism is welcome!


End file.
